Teacher's Pet
by jaxink
Summary: 2007 movieverse: Mikaela is having trouble learning how to shoot properly. Ironhide is there with his expertise to help. Warning: contains mech/human interaction! -oneshot, written for July/Aug TF Rare Pairing on LJ-


Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers.

_A/N: This was written for the July/August TF Rare Pairing on LJ. The requested pairing was Ironhide/Mikaela with the following details they wanted in the story. I had fun writing this one. Enjoy! Also,_ **WARNING: MECH/HUMAN interaction!!**

The request:

Pairing Wanted: Ironhide / Mikaela  
Rating: PG - NC17  
Scenario: "What If" Mikaela wasn't joking about liking guys with big arms and tight abs and found that she also had a thing for big guns?

Three things I'd like to see: Mikaela watching 'Hide at the firing range and being turned on by the sight; a two-way attraction in which both of them at some point admit to the other; an upset Bumblebee, even more so than Sam, simply b/c of all the work he put into getting Sam and her together

Three things I don't want to see: Extreme angst - aim for a fun story!; Holoforms are okay but the more human/mech interaction, the happier I am ...and that's about it!

* * *

**Teacher's Pet**

--

The sound of gunshots echoed and cracked across the firing range, as humans and mechs alike took aim. Mission City was months behind them, but the threat of Decepticons was ever present. With Barricade still on the loose and Starscream's whereabouts unknown, the Autobots were keeping close tabs on their young human friends.

Ever serious about the safety of his two charges, Bumblebee had finally persuaded Optimus about the necessity of teaching Sam and Mikaela how to properly handle firearms. As their guardian, he was confident they would never have to wield a weapon of any kind because he would be there to protect them. Ideally, of course. But things have a funny way of going wrong, so he preferred they be prepared for the worst.

While he had managed to get Optimus to agree with training them, the large red and blue leader had refused to approve the use of Cybertronian weaponry in the hands of two teenagers. Bumblebee was considerably disappointed, and understandably, so was Sam, at the loss of shooting a massive alien weapon. Prime asked Captain Lennox to provide small, basic firearms for Mikaela and Sam to practice with.

Of course, it may have been better to have a human teach them how to use a gun. The Camaro was having a hard time teaching them, quite unused to the primitive, simple mechanics of the tiny guns. What was the point of giving the children small guns with bullets that would merely ping against a mech's armor and fall aside harmlessly? Oh yes, Bumblebee was confident they could defeat a Decepticon by scratching their paintjob with pitiful human bullets. And after messing up their paintjob, the offended mech would probably squish them.

Their lessons had been taking place on the weekends when Sam and Mikaela were visiting the Autobots' base in the desert. After a few lessons and much instructing from Bumblebee, one of his charges was doing quite well. But not who he expected…

Sam had taken to firing the weapon amazingly well. He was becoming quite the skilled marksman and rarely missed the target. He had a steady hand, and Bumblebee barely needed to offer any criticism. Mikaela, on the other hand, couldn't shoot at all. Period. It sort of frazzled Bumblebee's processors. The brunette was so adept at mechanics and similar activities, but when it came to shooting…well, to put it nicely, she couldn't hit Optimus Prime if he was standing right in front of her.

"Good, Sam! You nearly hit the bullseye that time," Bee praised. Sam turned and beamed at his guardian before turning to continue firing at the target. The yellow scout turned his attention to Mikaela. He knelt down closer to the girl and watched as her grip on the gun wavered in her grasp. "Easy, Mikaela. That's right. Steady your grip—aim…fire!"

The force of the shot pushed the gun back slightly, causing Mikaela to falter. The bullet strayed from its intended path and hit Ironhide across the firing range. Mikaela winced and shouted, "Sorry, Ironhide!"

The massive black mech turned at the sound of his designation. He hadn't been paying attention as he was much too focused on his own practice with his beloved cannons. "Huh?"

The human teen walked over to the Topkick. "I said sorry. My shot kinda strayed and hit you. Are you okay?"

Glancing down at his arm where Mikaela was pointing, he saw nothing. He attempted to focus his optics closer upon the area. "Where?"

She squinted and pointed again. "There. I think."

Zooming in further, Ironhide managed to spot a tiny, minuscule speck marring his paintjob. "You're kiddin', right?"

"What? It didn't hurt? I shot you!" Mikaela said with remorse.

Bumblebee joined them. "Mikaela, I've told you many times. The odds of any human weapon, especially one of that size, harming any of us is highly unlikely. I can give you my calculated probabilities again, if you like."

Waving her hands, she said, "No thanks, Bee. Once was enough. Still, I think I'm getting worse at this. There's no excuse. I still shot you, Ironhide. I'm sorry."

Puzzled and feeling slightly flustered for some reason, Ironhide gruffly said, "It's nothin'." With that, he turned away and focused on stuff that made sense. Blowing up stuff.

"Don't feel too badly, Mikaela. You've still only had a few lessons. You'll improve," Bumblebee said comfortingly.

Blowing a stay strand of hair out of her eyes, Mikaela crossed her arms and sighed. "I don't know, Bee. I seriously think guns aren't my area of expertise. And how come Sam is such a natural? I mean, look at him."

They both turned their gaze to Sam as he unloaded another round into the target across the range. His shots were getting closer and closer to dead center. Mikaela heaved another sigh and turned her eyes upon Ironhide. His cannon fired a blast at a pile of scrap far in the distance. Naturally, it hit directly in the center and burst into flames and sent pieces flying. He wasn't a weapon specialist for nothing.

Why couldn't she be a good shooter like Ironhide? It looked so satisfying to be able to blast the hell out of anything like that. She observed the black mech take aim for another shot. His intense look of concentration made her smile, and she vaguely wondered what it would be like to be the target Ironhide was focused upon. Wryly, she thought if she was the target, she would be scared shitless and run in the other direction. But that lead her to wonder if Ironhide focused that intently on anything else…

Ironhide's cannon buzzed with life, whirring as it powered up preparing to release a torrent of energy. His weapons were finely tuned right down to every wire and electrical component. Works of art. That was something Mikaela could appreciate. The mechanic in her always marveled at the wonder of the Cybertronian body. Their Autobot friends were graceful, tactful giants. Ratchet had shown her schematics of each of their protoforms; they were essential to him as a medic for understanding the intricacies of his comrades' bodies. So complicated, and yet when built perfectly, mechanics and technology worked seamlessly together. And Ironhide was a perfect specimen.

His cannon released its fury upon its intended target, and Ironhide retracted it with satisfaction. The sight hit Mikaela like a slap in the face, and she suddenly felt hotter than a wildfire loose on a prairie. Her eyes were glued to the weapon specialist's movements. His hydraulics glided and his systems hummed, almost as if he had muscles flexing and straining. Ironhide's chassis was broad and each of his massive arms could possibly weigh more than an elephant each, yet he stood to full height with practiced grace.

Oh. God. Mikaela came to a sudden, and somewhat startling, realization. Her heart thudded in her chest. Her breath came rapidly in and out. When had that happened? Why was she suddenly having thoughts of masturbating in the flatbed of a certain black Topkick? Besides, she was a human.

After standing and turning, Ironhide noticed Mikaela had still been watching him, even after Bumblebee had gone to help Sam some more. Why was she looking at him like that? His optics blinked owlishly at the girl as she strained her head back to look at him. Ironhide immediately offered his hand without any thought to her. She clambered up and held on tightly to one of his fingers. "Is something wrong, Mikaela?" Ironhide asked as he held her even with his faceplate. "Did you finish your lesson with Bumblebee?"

Suddenly nervous, she shrugged. "I guess. I kinda stopped early. I'm terrible at this, 'Hide."

The black mech felt his spark pulse at the use of his nickname and enjoyed the sensation of Mikaela absently stroking his palm as she sat stretched out on it. "I'm afraid I can't sympathize. Shooting and weapons are an integral part of my programming. I feel like I've had my cannons as part of my systems forever."

"Makes sense," she said with a chuckle. A brilliant idea struck her at that moment. "Hey, 'Hide, maybe you could give me a few lessons?"

Taken aback for a moment, the gruff mech wasn't sure what to say. "I don't know, Mikaela. Bumblebee is a much more patient instructor."

She nodded. "I know, and Bee's great, but maybe I need a kick in the aft. I learn well under pressure. It's how I learned to work on cars. My dad wasn't exactly patient."

"You enjoy being yelled at when trying to do something?" Ironhide asked.

Mikaela laughed. "Not yelled at, but I need a little more pressure, I think. Just look at how Ratchet's been training me while we're doing repairs on Jazz. He yells at me to go faster, like it's a life-threatening sensation. He's always saying things like, 'Move faster, Mikaela, but don't sacrifice a good job with sloppiness. Lives are at stake!' That usually works."

"Perhaps, but Ratchet's always yelling about something," Ironhide said skeptically.

Shaking her head, the teen said, "True, but that's not my point."

Closing his optics, Ironhide released air from his vents. "I'm not sure I understand, but very well, I'll continue your firearm instruction, if you wish."

"Great! Thanks, 'Hide! You won't regret it, I swear," Mikaela chirped happily. He nodded and slowly lowered her to the ground.

"I have some reports to finish for Optimus, so meet me back here in two hours. And remember Mikaela, I won't go easy on you," he warned.

She simply smiled and walked back over to join Bumblebee and Sam. She was counting on it.

* * *

Ironhide stood back at the firing range two hours later, impatiently shifting from foot to foot. Mikaela was late. He hated it when people were late. Why did he agree to this again?

His processors pulled up a saved image of Mikaela from earlier that day staring at him strangely. Ah yes, that was part of the reason. The girl was acting normal around him, but her body was giving off strange signals. If his systems were functioning correctly, which he assumed they were, she had been…aroused earlier. But why?

His thoughts were interrupted as the subject of his ponderings came running up. Mikaela let out a few pants before looking up at him and smiling that sweet smile. "Sorry I'm late. Ratchet was merciless this afternoon. He made me rewire something five times before he was satisfied."

Ironhide scoffed at this. "He's always fussy."

Mikaela giggled and said, "Well, should we get started?"

Finally, something that would make sense. Guns. Explosions. Things that go BOOM. "Good idea. Do you have your firearm and safety equipment?"

"Yup." Swiftly, Mikaela put on her protective goggles and pulled the headphones over her ears to muffle the sound of the gunshots. She raised her weapon, so tiny in her hand for him to see.

The black mech directed her to face the targets and to kneel down. He knelt down slowly behind her. "Focus on the target ahead of you. You're much too shaky. Imagine you're working on that wiring with Ratchet. You need your hands to be perfectly still or you'll mess up, right? It's the same here. Steady hands. I said, steady, not shakier!"

Biting her lip, Mikaela said, "I know you said steady. I'm trying!"

Ironhide growled. "I don't think you are. What if that target were a Decepticon? You'd be dead by now. Stop wasting time thinking so much, and just shoot the damn thing!"

Scowling, Mikaela did just that. She pulled the trigger and the bullet soared to the target. She didn't even pay attention. The brunette turned to berate the mech behind her. "You big jerk. I said I do well under pressure, not insults!"

"I'd have to disagree. Look," Ironhide said smugly.

Mikaela whipped her head around to look at the target. Squinting, she discovered her bullet had hit the bullseye. Huh. What do you know?

Ironhide was still smirking as Mikaela stared at the target in disbelief. He was a slaggin' good teacher, wasn't he? He normally didn't enjoy teaching others, especially when it came to shooting. He didn't mind teaching a mech a lesson by beating his aft in a fight, but this was entirely different. And it was worth seeing that look on Mikaela's face. She turned around to smile gratefully at him with that strange look before turning her attention to try firing again.

That look. It made his spark flutter in its casing. It made his wiring begin to overheat and cause his cooling fans to kick on. His confused feelings increased as he continued to watch Mikaela shoot the target. She was a remarkable human. Determined, brave, defiant… Ironhide's processors froze. This was a terribly, bad idea. A mech and a human? His processors pointed out the many difficulties something like that could present. But another part of him, possibly his spark, didn't really care. Watching Mikaela with a gun in her hand was causing his engine to rev incessantly.

Deciding something had to be done about that instantly, for Ironhide was not a mech to leave things unsaid or undone, he transformed into his truck alt-mode. Startled at the sudden change, Mikaela removed her headphones and pushed back her goggles while placing the gun gently on the ground with the safety on. "Something wrong, 'Hide?"

The driver's door swung open. "Get in."

Without asking why, Mikaela climbed up and buckled herself in. The Topkick drove off once she was secure. "Where are we going?"

"Anywhere but here," came the disembodied voice from the dashboard. And yet, it was perfectly natural to Mikaela.

"Why?"

"We need to talk."

"Oh." Mikaela suddenly wasn't feeling so confident about her request to have Ironhide give her a few shooting lessons. Had she upset him in some way at the firing range? Was he still mad at her for being late? Her thoughts raced and before she knew it, they had arrived…to a bare, isolated patch of the already isolated desert.

She unfastened her seatbelt as Ironhide came to a halt and sat quietly, waiting for her companion to speak. She fidgeted nervously, unknowingly causing a wonderful sensation to ripple through the black mech's systems.

During the drive, Ironhide had been searching the web for clues as to how to pursue this…relationship?

"Get out," he commanded. She obeyed, and he transformed, towering above her. He held out his hand for her to sit on, and he sat himself down on the dry, dusty ground.

"Do you become aroused when you watch me fire my cannons?" Ironhide asked bluntly.

Stunned, Mikaela pushed her long hair behind her ear. "W-what?"

"Don't make me repeat myself, Mikaela. My systems indicated you were aroused earlier today."

Of course she couldn't lie to a giant robot! Hadn't Ratchet commented on Sam's own pheromone levels the first time they met? It was impossible to hide anything from their advanced systems.

"Yeah, I guess I was," she admitted. "I've always like guys with big arms, or guns in this case."

Ironhide's spark fluttered once more. "I see."

"Why ask, 'Hide? Especially if you already knew?" she said as she gently traced a finger along his palm.

"Because I felt similarly watching you at that range."

At that admission, Mikaela's mouth fell open. "Seriously?"

"Yes, and I brought you here to explore that…if you are willing, of course?"

She didn't know what to say. "I don't know, 'Hide. Yes, I have these feelings for you, but how were you planning on exploring this? I'm kind of smaller than you are, if you hadn't noticed," Mikaela teased.

"I'm aware of that. I thought I could finish your lesson here. All you need is some instruction."

"What did you have in mind?"

Ironhide let his other hand shift and spin into his cannon and held it close to her. "An important part of firearms is learning how to properly care for them. Cleaning and maintenance are essential to their optimal performance."

Leaning over from her position on his hand, she allowed her hands to trail along his cannon. "Okay, you want me to check out the calibration and wiring? Make sure everything's working?"

"Yes, that would be the idea. And Mikaela?"

"Yeah?"

"The wiring in my cannon is quite sensitive."

With a sultry smirk, she replied, "Oh, is it?" Innocently, she carefully dug her hands through the gaps in his armor around the cannon and began shamelessly groping several wires.

Ironhide's arm began to quiver at her soft touches. Mikaela dragged her nails across any solid plating she could find and pressed her warm body even closer to the dormant cannon. She tweaked wires here and there, offering firm and soft caresses. Through it all, the black mech felt his systems rapidly heating. He let out a moan as the slim teen flicked a wire, before smoothing it back into place.

"Primus…" Ironhide whispered unsteadily, feeling quite tingly all over as the warmth spread from his arm to the rest of his body.

Her focused ministrations continued for several minutes, marveling at how she could make Ironhide's engine rev with each pull, caress, and manipulation of wires. Mikaela 'tsked'. "Here's a frayed wire. Shame on you, 'Hide. I thought you took better care of yourself."

Completely worked up at this point, Ironhide couldn't form a reply. His systems hummed with energy, screaming for release. Mikaela smiled sweetly once more at him before tweaking the ends of said frayed wire, and a blissful overload hit him in waves. Ironhide shuddered in pleasure, ever conscious of his careful grip on the young human.

Optics blinking slowly and still feeling sluggish after his release, Ironhide allowed a small smile of his own to form on his lips after retracting his cannon.

"I believe that was a successful lesson," Mikaela said with a laugh.

Ironhide said, "Who said it was over?"

"It isn't?"

"No, it isn't. I'm not done instructing, so listen up," Ironhide growled at her gently. "Lay down on my palm."

"Yes, Mr. 'Hide," Mikaela saluted and laid herself out along his palm.

Ironhide nodded. "Just as you carefully examined my cannon, other matters are just as delicate when dealing with them."

Furrowing her brow, she asked, "What kind of matters?"

"Oh, plenty of stuff," Ironhide said vaguely. He raised his free hand to ever so carefully trail a finger against Mikaela's lean body. She leaned up into the soft caress, enjoying the sensation. His finger pressed gently into her all over, never stopping. It felt as if a warm pressure was against her body everywhere. "Close your eyes," he murmured.

Again, Mikaela obeyed. "What now?"

"Just listen and feel," Ironhide instructed. "When you were watching me earlier practicing, I didn't know what to think. But the way you looked at me intrigued me. You were studying me so intently, so closely. It heated my circuits. Did I make you hot, Mikaela? Did you enjoy seeing my cannons exposed and smoking?"

She moaned at the sound of his deep voice, heat pooling in her stomach as his finger pressed more insistently, but still carefully upon her. Ironhide continued. "I could detect your temperature rising, your heart rate increasing, your breath rapid. Your pheromone levels were screaming at me, though you were unsure."

Mikaela began to squirm, arching her back and pleading breathlessly as the metal beneath her increased in temperature. Or was that just her heated body trembling in pleasure?

"I know how you feel, Mikaela. Arguing with you earlier, watching you fire the gun…it's almost as intoxicating as watching you intent at work while doing mechanics. You're a natural, you know, when it comes to everything you try. You just need to stop thinking so much."

"Mmm, harder, 'Hide," Mikaela groaned, eager for more. Ironhide's finger circled around below her hips.

"Stop thinking, and let go, Mikaela. Let go," he murmured, entranced by the sight before him.

At that moment, Mikaela took his advice and let go. She released a loud cry and fell limp against the palm of the mech cradling her. A hand that could crush her instantly, but instead, it rocked her gently, as she regained her breath. Slowly, she came down from her high and shakily sat up. "Wow, 'Hide. You are a good teacher."

Carefully setting her on the ground, Ironhide smiled. "I know." He transformed once more, and Mikaela got into the gleaming black Topkick. He revved his engine and sped off back to base.

* * *

Back at base, Bumblebee searched frantically for Sam. He found his charge lounging lazily on a human-sized couch in the rec room watching television. "Sam! Have you seen, Mikaela?"

"Hm? No, I haven't. Why? I thought she was at her private lesson with Ironhide."

Bumblebee sighed. "Sam, that was four hours ago! I heard Ironhide drive off not twenty minutes after they began."

Sam turned to stare suspiciously at his guardian. "Were you spying on them, Bee?"

"What? No! Of course not."

"You were! Are you jealous of 'Hide because Mikaela wanted lessons from him instead?"

"Sort of, but that's not the point, Sam! I think they had a different kind of private lesson. You know, away from the base. So no one would be around…?"

Sam laughed. "Yeah, so? 'Kaela's been making googly eyes at Ironhide for a while now. Maybe he finally noticed. Let them have their fun…though, I'm curious as to how that works."

"Well, I'm sure he'd be very careful, but—wait! You lost me again. You knew she liked him, and you're not upset? You were dating!!" Bee sputtered.

The human boy shrugged. "Yeah, we were dating, for only like a month. She's my friend, Bee, and she's free to do what she wants."

"You're not dating anymore?"

"I thought you knew?"

"No, I most certainly did not. All my hard work—wasted!" the scout lamented.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "What hard work?"

"Getting you two together! You think I liked having you two make out on my hood?"

--end--


End file.
